


The Naive assassin

by SageGreenSensei



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Assassination Attempt(s), Assassins & Hitmen, Domestic Fluff, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Espionage, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Smut, Infiltration, Inspired by Anastasia (1997 & Broadway), Inspired by Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan, Mild Smut, Reconnaissance, Romantic Fluff, Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan References, Slow Burn, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-19 01:47:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29867283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SageGreenSensei/pseuds/SageGreenSensei
Summary: You’re the best in your field; lethal, astute- dangerous. Assigned another cumbersome task to complete, you follow through- organised schemes and all. You’re confident you’ve got this little, facile job wrapped around your pinky, until a certain someone proves you to be wrong. A certain man.Your target.
Relationships: Erwin Smith & Reader, Erwin Smith/Reader, Erwin Smith/You, Levi Ackerman & Reader, Levi Ackerman/Erwin Smith/Reader, Levi Ackerman/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	1. Chapter 1

The symphony of a a great orchestra sounded, as silks, ribbons and cacophonous chatter flew throughout the hall. Twirling maidens, giggles and scintillating lights surrounded you, leaving you in unexpected awe. Indeed, the gala was magnificent. The prestige and exclusivity was almost tangible. 

You wanted to vomit.

_Just get the job done. Then, you’re out of here._

Sighing, you strolled towards an isolated corner of the room, attempting to not be of any disturbance towards the pompous, waltzing individuals that had dominated the dance floor. Fakes and plastics, faux smiles and words, evil glares and whispers from all directions. You truly didn’t have an inkling of an idea as to how society could thrive in such a place; how badly desperate many were to step foot in this environment. You felt the need to regurgitate your last meal. 

In fact, the crowd had proliferated since the last held event. Yes, you could recognise a few well known figures within the room. Dukes and duchesses; lords and ladies- the like. You wondered what had possessed them to be here (save for boasting their own, monstrous egos and undermining others). Could it simply be to fulfil their own self-indulgent desires? To thrive in this hell hole of a banquet? To assert whatever facade of supercilious authority they had upon others?

_No...they’re all here for him_.

Certainly. The grand host of honour was to bless this fine winters evening. 

_How exciting_. 

You dusted off the fine material of your resplendent gown, realising it was a rather poor decision to be clad in such ostentatious attire. For stealth was key tonight. A key asset you certainly were notorious for back in training.

You inched closer towards a large, arched frame of a window and stared out. A thick blanket of white hugged the landscape as naked trees shook and wavered from the rustling of wind and the graceful falling of snow. The night sky was clear, as stars twinkled high, yearning to be noticed by all those below. You almost pitied them; having to put on such a pretence all for naught. 

Just like everyone here tonight.

Immediately, the rhythm of the orchestra switched to a more languid, magisterial and opulent melody. Numerous heads swivelled towards said direction as a fanfare sounded. Gossip, chatter, all and any sounds that were previously of standing instantaneously ceased. Silence.

Powerful strides echoed towards the centre of the polished floor, demanding attention from every individual around.

Subsequently, a rich, baritone voice boomed across the room, “Good evening everyone. You may know me as your king, however tonight, I am but a humble citizen mingling amongst you all. Please, enjoy yourselves; drink, dance- allow laughter to fill up the room. Tonight, we shall feast like no other. Tonight, we shall celebrate like no other. For I will be your fellow host: let me guide you through a true banquet.” 

Rambunctious applause and wide smiles erupted as the orchestra recommenced. It all felt like a theatrical script. One that you were determined to improvise.


	2. Chapter 2

Pondering your next line of action, you sat at the nearest table, styled with a pearly white cloth and at the centre of it, a quaint, little flower. Adorable.

Eyebrows furrowed and palm in hand, you contemplated. Seconds turned to minutes. And before you knew it, you were idly staring at the potted flower. 

You chuckled.  _Despite gaining agile flexibility, it seems the drug has also relaxed my state of mind. Perhaps, a bit too much._

You attempted to design some sort of plan, but nothing came to mind. This was certainly going to cause an altercation.

“What are you doing here, sitting alone?”

Maintaining composure, you glanced upwards at the glowering presence.A man of short, lean stature was looming over you. His ebony, undercut was swept back, matching the hue of his,more than likely, expensive suit. Any moonlight that had emitted through the window, had reflected off his fair skin. If it weren’t for the plastered scowl on his face, you might have even fallen for him. Not to mention that menacing and condescending demeanour.

“You speak English don’t you?” Menace laced through his words.

“Would it be a crime not to respond?” You retorted.

“It would certainly be frowned upon.”

You turned slightly towards him and allowed your posture to relax- careful not to completely do so, for this man still had an ominous presence about him, something you couldn’t exactly place. “By who? You?” The corners of your lips curved upwards before adding, “By the looks of it, I’m pretty sure that expression is permanent.”

His eyes widened as his lips twitched.

_That should do it._

You assumed your previous position and continued to stare outwards, attempting to clear your head somewhat. You realised you may actually be here longer than initially planned. You needed to clear your head. _Don’t think. Breathe._

You closed your eyes and released the tension in your stiff soldiers. Allowing the ambiance of the pretentious event to drown you, taking it all in and learning to blend. Following the clinking of wine glasses and whooshing of thick velvets; the spontaneous bursts of laughter andoccasional clanging of china and porcelain plates. You were almost at the edge of fully immersing yourself before a familiar voice uttered:

“It’s already wilting,” agitation imminent, “I could’ve sworn I told them to set up a fresh batch.” 

Rapidly swivelling to your right, the same grumpy man was seated at your table, even fiddling with the petite flower, which, in fact, was wilting. 

You glared as you questioned, “What are you still doing here?”

Not even sparing a glance to you, he threatened, “You clearly aren’t aware of who I am; watch your tone.” He continued to finger the geranium. Incredulous, you stared. This man certainly couldn’t have been that important simply because he was never mentioned in the documents. You definitely would’ve remembered a man of that persona. Anyone could. He practically oozed temerity, more than that of the average audacious man. You pondered, filing through every archive of known figures you had organised in your mind. 

He didn’t match a single memory.

“Keep staring like that, and I’ll have those pupils gouged.” He continued to eloquently sip his tea, brushing off the crude comment. Even the way he held the china cup was peculiar- finger tips gripped around the rim of the cup. 

You couldn’t resist responding “Is that any way to talk to a woman? Now I’m confident  that would be frowned upon.” You echoed his words. Expecting a reply, you continued to stare outwards. Nothing came.

“Would you atleast care to enlighten me of who you are?” Agitation started to seep through your words. This man must be of  some importance-your gut counted on it. As much as you already loathed the man, this simply couldn’t be something you just dismissed.

A few moments passed. Not a single one of you faced each other, noses pointed upwards. 

_Isn’t he the stubborn one?_

Your eyebrows deeply furrowed as you slightly turned towards him. He finally decided to grace you with the small answer of: “King’s advisor.” 

It was now your turn to widen your eyes.

_Why wasn’t his name mentioned in the documents? He doesn’t look like the one in the papers. Did they change? When? How? Wasn’t there a long, traditional procedure you had to endure? That usually took weeks! The last advisor was seen just a week ago. Is he injured? Perhaps on leave? What was going on?_

As the grand train of thoughts raced through your mind vigorously, you had forgotten to consider a single fact- perhaps he was lying. Perhaps, the actual adviser was simply at home, a personal issue leading to him not being at today’s event. 

Seemingly so, you glanced at the raven of a man, seated smug, as he sipped his tea.

_No. He wasn’t lying._

All the training you endured led to your conclusion. You knew when someone was lying. Their subtle idiosyncrasies revealed it. This man currently has the demeanour of an old man, clad in a Hawaiian shirt, slurping away at his piña colada on a sunny beach. He definitely wasn’t lying.

Supposedly, you could use this to your advantage. You had to get through to the King one way or another, so you decided this would be the best course of action. However, it would most likely require some sycophantic tactics on your part. Oh, how you could feel the bile rising up your throat already.

Instantaneously, your body language flipped. You were now fully facing him with both legs leaned to one side as you uncrossed your arms. Twirling a strand of hair, you innocently asked, “King’s advisor? I’m certain that role is already taken, darling.” You ensured to mix a little, high pitched, bristle-like quality to your voice, as well as, mischievous intent.

He rolled his eyes and loured at you.

“Are you bipolar? Or are you just naturally duplicitous?” He accused. You notice how his jaw clenched and eyes darkened when he grimaced. Did he catch on? No... he couldn’t have... he may seem sharp, but there’s no way he saw through your plan.

You held your position strong and waited for him to elaborate.

He leaned closer in his seat as his eyelids drooped lower, “I know exactly what you want,” he whispered, “and you’re not getting it.” 

Despite years of facing your claustrophobic fears and harsh sessions in maintaining absolute and perfect composure, nothing had prepared you for this. The proximity was overwhelming- all too intimate for someone of his standing.

You mustered enough fortitude to reply, “And what is that exactly?” You prayed he didn’t have any sort of supernatural abilities, for he would have easily deciphered the uneasy palpitations of your heart and quivering of your legs under the table.

_What am I? Five? He’s just a route to the target- relax. Continue with the plan._

He finally leaned back and crossed one leg over the other, as you discreetly let out a breath you weren’t even aware of holding.

“I’m not offering you my hand.” He sighed. “I’m aware women of your status have to claw their way just to feel welcomed in high society, but I’m not your free ticket. You can try it with anyone else here - _ but not me .” _

“Besides,” he added, “if this is your way of charming others, you’ll never get married at this rate.” He stared at you coldly, anticipating your reaction. As if he expected an outcry of anger and offence; frustration and ignominy, all at once. This was most likely a performance he had directed all too many times, his index finger tapping on his thigh indicated that.

He was right to assume that you were just some middle class woman in desperate search of a suitor. That was, after all, the societal expectation in this patriarchal world. But, of course, that was your intention. If anything, it’s tremendous news to hear that _he_ _ actually fell for it . _

Mimicking his demeanour you reservedly proposed, “Then what do you suggest I do, Mr. Perfect?”

He chuckled-  yes, actually chuckled \- and lowly responded with, “I suggest you don’t fall into that trap. A woman of your persona and intelligence shouldn’t spend time on trying to find a husband.” Shifting in his seat, he continued, “It’s a waste of precious time and energy. You could do so much more with what you already have. Don’t limit yourself- that’s for losers. Are you?” He raised a brow and turned to you, only to find you incredulously frozen. 

Did he seriously just give you a pep talk? What happened to the crude creature you were just battling with a minute ago? Bizarre.

The alleged ‘King’s advisor’ sharing a different perspective of the patriarch? Absurd. You could’ve sworn you were dreaming.

Sceptical, you peered at him. “Is that truly what you believe?”

“Of course. Don’t mock me- I’m not repeating myself.” Abruptly he stood up, tucking the plush chaise back under the table and brushed off any existing dust off his suit. 

“Well, seemingly as your not exactly busy...”

A new melody from the nearby orchestra began to play; smooth and suave. A complete transition from the previous rambunctious symphony. It had already pulled several couples onto the polished dance floor, awaiting their ‘perfect waltz’ as they intimately placed hands on shoulders and hips.

The man towered over you and offered:

“May I have this dance?”


	3. Chapter 3

His hand was still outstretched as he waited. Eyes rolling in agitation, he asked, “You are aware that the ball ends tonight, correct?”

Brushing past the satire comment, you stood and patted your gown, imitating his own movements, and then proceeded to take his hand. “Then let’s make it worthwhile.” You smiled at him and continued your performance- _that should satisfy him_.

For you see, there was a certain area on the dance floor that was ridiculously reserved for nobles or those of higher standing; associates of the King. Knowing Levi was most likely one of the closest, you followed elegantly and hooked an arm around his, as he led the both of you to said location. 

Many gawked and whispered as they threw obnoxious daggers your way, attempting to demolish the walls of fortitude that you had spent years forming. You stood tall and remained indifferent; gliding across the floor, triumphant that there was not a single being that could possibly challenge you here tonight. The way their heads quickly turned was enough for you to smirk. You truly felt powerful tonight. However, you did consider the fact that it may just be because you were standing next to a literal dagger machine. 

The rich symphony floated across the floor, as violins, cellos and bass boomed mightily; all stringing in harmony to form a melody smoother than chocolate fondue. It would be deceitful to say it didn’t have a sudden influence on you- seemingly as you turned to Levi and pressed your hands against him, on both shoulders. Rather than find him in shock, he wore a smirk of mischievous understanding. Quickly, his hands were on your waist and he swivelled the both of you across the floor, elegantly moving with grace. He had certainly practiced, that’s for sure. 

You felt the chandeliers’ light beam on your skin as you realised that the gap between you both was almost non-existent. He suddenly dipped his chin closer to your neck and breathed, “Well, isn’t this lovely?” The hot air trailed across your skin, forming goosebumps in it’s wake. Heat crept up your nape as you quietly murmured, “Certainly.” It was all you could muster. 

Both of you continued to waltz briskly. You took the decision to glance at his features, regarding them in another lighting. They were prominently sharp- much more angular than the moon had previously set it to appear, for previously, it was nothing but smooth and round. His cheekbones glistened as his eyes darkened; a silver storm brewing within. A flick of perfectly combed hair fell out of place above his eyes; creating more meaning in their gaze. 

It was only then you had realised that you _had_ recognised his face before through underground affairs... a notorious thug. One that had never been caught by even the highest ranking of officers. Yes, he was the one. Though a drawing was never submitted, a description was. One part of it that had stood out to you, read: ‘impenetrable orbs of steel accompanied with a permanent scowl’. This was him alright. The corners of you mouth tugged upwards at the solved puzzle. 

“Getting excited, are we?” 

Just as you realised that you were staring for too long, he had slithered one of his hands behind your neck; slender fingers playing with the hemline of the gown. The prickling sensation had sent an electric wave down your spine, rattling each vertebrae upon it’s journey. This was beginning to be too much fun for the both of you. You quickly straightened your posture and replied, “Clearly, not as much as you”. He scoffed, slowing his pace to match the sudden change in rhythm- the classical piece was nearing it’s end. His fingers continued to draw small, delicate circles on your nape as he wordlessly pondered for a few moments.

“I suppose it’s nice to dance with someone that doesn’t really seem to care for who I am.” You could almost detect a tone of saudade and exhaustion from his voice. He looked tired- all too tired for a man of his age. You felt the sudden urge to sympathise with him, given the unfortunate heritage you had been cursed by. You continued to gaze in his eyes, searching for a particular emotion that you could grasp and maybe even further examine; finding out the reason for his despair.

Immediately, you swatted the train of impending thoughts away- you couldn’t afford to over-analyse now, not when your target is somewhere nearby.   


  
The ravenette’s eyes trailed about your countenance and spotted a strand of hair misplaced; he mindlessly tucked it behind your ear,mentally blaming it on the fact that he was a perfectionist. Whilst you blamed it on a hidden desire. One that you recognised all too well: intimacy. The simple gesture alone was enough to convey this want. The intimacy all humans craved for when something doesn’t go right for them: perhaps a bad day at work, or failure of some kind, or even a simple reminder that they are loved. These were all things you had been taught; the instinctive nature behind the brain. You had to dismiss it, as it was currently blinding you from the task at hand; almost beginning to get a little  _too_ curious of this man.

_Focus, damn it._

A higher being must have heard your plea, for luckily, an officer marched urgently towards you both, exclaiming : “Lord Ackerman!”. Stealing your partner’s attention from you, he uttered something in his ear, causing his soft expression to harden back into it’s resting form; a notorious scowl. His hands released from you and without any explanation, he fled with the fellow soldier, purpose residing in his aggressive strides. Evidently, something urgent had come up, and conveniently, the King did not appear to be in the same room. As a clearer, more profound objective had formed in the front of your mind, you followed the two, seamlessly gliding through the dance floor.

_You’re not getting away that easily._


End file.
